


picture harry potter

by Lilaciliraya



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Because of Reasons, Forbidden Forest, Gen, Running, Short & Sweet, and no caps, bad grammar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 13:02:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilaciliraya/pseuds/Lilaciliraya
Summary: a boy, crying, forgets for a moment to hold himself together





	picture harry potter

harry potter, face buried in a mattress in a dusty old cupboard, alone. spiders crawling up and down his bruised shins- picture this. a boy with a dream and a lonely heart. two photographs of the same family that don’t match, two different shoes but both of them left. two pieces of a puzzle that will never fit together even if he pulls out a knife and cuts. 

 

then- a boy with knobby knees caked with dirt, wide eyes staring at a giant of a man. harry potter, a wizard, standing in an alley like he belongs, skin burning from all of the times he wasn’t touched or held or loved like he should have been. a boy and his hope for the future and his first friend- standing still.

 

fast-forward- harry potter, alone, being left one by one. harry potter, fighting. harry potter, tearing off pieces of himself and giving them away. harry potter, on his knees, begging. hope fading. harry potter, a front line against the enemy.

 

harry potter, alone, waking in the dead of night, screaming, clawing at his skin like if only he could peel it away things would be better. harry potter, rising from the ashes and stumbling desperately through the castle and beyond, a boy alone in a forest past dusk. feet crunching over dead leaves, the smell of dirt and rot and mildew, the smell of fresh air. a boy, running, barefoot but paying no mind to the the trail of rust colored blood mixing into the muddy ground behind him.

 

crashing through branches, heart like a rabbit pounding against ribs. whites of eyes like white bone peeking out from under old cracked logs, hardened against the surroundings. lungs heaving, breath puncturing the unnatural quiet of the woods. a boy is hurtling through the trees of the forbidden forest, thorns sticking into flesh and coming along for the ride. 

 

a life, changed. toes sinking into moss and tearing, the bare earth sending a hum up trembling legs, desperation driving jerking limbs to keep moving. the sun rises over the horizon and nobody knows yet that a hero has been lost. 

 

then-

 

picture this- a head breaking the surface of a lake once calm like glass- lungs ripping through the still air and forcing it down- ripples, everywhere. 

 

harry potter on his side before a field of tulips, hands over his head screaming for forgiveness. the disappearing moon begs for space, convinces the lone boy to look away as its last light fades- it leaves no witnesses. 

 

in the field of tulips just one is an outsider, broken by a virus, screaming out to the world in a violent swirl of red and yellow- please. a boy, crying, forgets for a moment to hold himself together. a boy and a flower and the last glimpses of a gentle glow, all against the tumultuous world.

 

his heart, shaking, pulling at his chest like inevitability, gravity taking over as he curls inward towards the pain- it doesn’t ease even as he spills his soul across the muddy earth. a last chance, lost.

 

harry potter, free.


End file.
